Through the Fog

By Pranavi Vedula, USA

In the wood, where beasts lurk

Dark shadows descend,

An eerie atmosphere blankets the air

Fog masks the wood

Flowers wither, plants wilt

Creepiness bounds the rocky paths

As blackness slowly creeps

The cold air huffs

Through the fog, the woods of death

Where the tangled trees of pain seem to guard,

Past the gloomy mountains,

Away and restricted hidden in the dark

Is hope. Nobody can get it for us,

We must bring it ourselves.

When it is most cloudy, we must see it.

When the icy air blows, we must feel it.

Where there is dark, there is light,

For even at most hopeless times,

There will always be hope.